


Every French Child Is Evil

by lamerezouille



Series: 25 days of Draco and Harry, 2011 [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamerezouille/pseuds/lamerezouille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Prompt:</b> <a href="http://i1209.photobucket.com/albums/cc385/sassy_cissa/9.jpg">A blond child with startlingly blue eyes</a><br/>I’m French myself, so, in the name of my people, I declare no offense taken from anything stated herein.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Every French Child Is Evil

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** [A blond child with startlingly blue eyes](http://i1209.photobucket.com/albums/cc385/sassy_cissa/9.jpg)  
>  I’m French myself, so, in the name of my people, I declare no offense taken from anything stated herein.

Draco slammed the door behind him and started pacing furiously in their bedroom.

‘I cannot do this! I assure you, Potter, that there is no way in the whole wide world that I can do this!’

Draco was starting to undress, still fuming, but Harry tried to appease him even though he was a little turned on.

‘Calm down, Draco. No need to return to surnames.’

‘No need to– Are you drunk, Potter? This is the _exact_ situation where I should be allowed to return to surnames! Have you even _seen_ his eyes? Have you looked into them? There were evil sparks in them, Potter, I’m telling you!’

Okay, so maybe little Louis wasn’t as lively and joyful as his older sisters, and maybe he was bordering on deserving a role in these horror movies with ghost-children taking revenge, but Harry considered Draco was largely overreacting.

‘Come on, Draco, don’t you think you’re blowing things out of proportions a little bit?’

‘What! Out of proportions? I’ve never seen a creepier child in my entire life! I bet even young Tom Riddle was better. At least _he_ surely didn’t just stand around with his big creepy eyes fixed on you, not saying a word.’

They’d been to Bill and Fleur’s for dinner, had seen their littlest, for maybe _one hour_ , and Draco behaved as if he’d been scarred by children for life. It got Harry a little bit upset, but he guessed getting upset now was not the best solution to stop Draco’s freak-out.

‘You can’t reproach him his silence. He’s got to learn two languages at once! Fleur told me that he was better at French for now and that listening intently to people speaking English helped very much.’

‘So you’re saying it’s the French thing, Potter?’ Draco asked with a relatively calmer voice. Harry considered this a good thing so he opted to agree.

‘Well…it _might_ be?’

‘Mon Dieu, Potter! I’m part French, too! This _cannot_ go well.’

‘Listen to yourself, Draco. Your closest French ancestor lived in the eighteenth century. How can this even be an issue?’

‘ _You’re_ the one saying every French child is evil.’

‘I never–’ Harry almost began to argue, but he knew it would be pointless. He thought he made a very good “most responsible adult in the house” and didn’t want to lose the crown. ‘Sit down, Draco,’ he said, patting the spot beside him on the bed, ‘there’s no need to–’

Harry got cut off by a sudden and quite violent pain in his belly. Draco noticed at once and quit all his pacing to kneel next to him with a concerned look. (If Harry had known it’d be that easy, he would maybe have faked it at the beginning of their conversation.)

‘There’s no need to what, Harry?’ Draco had taken Harry’s hands between his and was looking at him with very worried eyes.

Harry tried to smile and talk at the same time, but all he managed was a loud panting noise, that more or less translated to, ‘I was going to say that there’s no need to freak out, but, uh, I guess I might be wrong…’

‘Harry? What’s going on? Talk to me, Harry! Talk to me now!’ Draco was _this_ close to grasp him by the arms and shake him, but, thank Merlin, he had more sense than that.

‘Draco, I…I think it’s…’ Harry answered in a raspy breath, still in the after-shock of the pain.

‘What?’ Draco cried. He was out-of-sorts, alarmed, and his hand was clearly itching for his wand, but he also had a sort of half-smile, and Harry knew he’d completely understood what was going on.

Draco’s smile grew a little, and it proved to Harry that Draco’s rant had been just that, and that there was nothing more serious to worry about. Despite his French-children-related freak-out, Draco was ready, and Harry had been ready for quite some time now. It was time.

Draco put his jacket back on, and Harry took him by the hand to go to St Mungo’s.

He had a baby to deliver, after all.

 


End file.
